


Absolution

by Thisisathrowawayaccount



Series: Miracles AU [1]
Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisathrowawayaccount/pseuds/Thisisathrowawayaccount
Summary: In a desperate bid to absolve all her sins before attending Hexside, Luz must hunt down her oddest ally with the help of witches.Set before Episode 13
Series: Miracles AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904023
Kudos: 4





	Absolution

For the fifth time that morning, Luz read through the pamphlet to Hexside. With all prerequisites taken care of, she could enjoy perusing its fine features unburdened by stress and worry.

The school was as beautiful as it was historic. It seemed that there wasn’t a point in time when the school didn’t exist, which explained a lot of oddities present across campus. “Eda, did you know they have not one but two mausoleums on the student grounds?” she asked, rereading the paragraph. “Who do you think’s inside?”

Eda rolled off the couch with a groan. “Who cares? Buncha nobodies,” she responded, heading for the kitchen where her latest concoctions were brewing. 

Stopping in the doorway, she looked back at Luz. “Why don’t you do something more… proactive?” She fake-gagged. “Ugh, saying that word makes me sick.”

Luz sat up, her mind flooding with ideas. “Proactive? Like get ahead in classes?”

She could take notes on the Bible or practicing jousting for crusade bouts or get some books on the history of various denominations. She still had to decide which one to join for school; each one had specific classes, so she couldn’t properly prepare until she picked one. 

“Or prepare for the confessional.”

Her train of thought crashed. “Confessional?” she repeated, contorting to meet Eda’s eye. “Isn’t that a church thing? Why would a school-” 

“Christian school.” 

“But only a handful of denominations actually do that!”

Eda shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s the thought that counts,” she replied before snickering. “Especially if you’ve been having sinful thoughts.”

Could this confessional read minds? Would she be compelled to speak on all her sins since her last reconciliation or just the ones she committed in the valley? Do venial sins count? 

What would happen if Reverend Bump decided she was too sinful to attend his school? “Eda,” Luz wailed. “What do I do?”

“Alright, alright,” she said, holding up her hands. “I’ll help ya.”

Returning to the couch, Eda was relieved that their conversations finally pivoted away from school. To an oh-so juicier topic. She put her hands on her knees and tried not to grin. “Now tell me, kid, what bad things have you done?”

Luz crinkled the pamphlet in her hands as she wracked her brain for any sins she committed. “Um, the other day Gus showed me his secret stash of snacks, and I ate some of them… Okay, a lot of them. He thought squirrels did it, and I never corrected him.”

“What else?”

“I accidentally overwatered one of Willow’s succulents, but that doesn’t count, right? I didn’t know that succulents didn’t-”

“Just act like everything counts.”

Luz groaned. “Okay, so there was also this time where I was hanging out with Ed and Em. They thought it’d be funny to… Long story short, a prank went very wrong, and I don’t go to that side of town anymore.”

It wasn’t as bad as she was making it sound, but she wasn’t lying either. It was a shame too since that part of town had an amazing bakery. “So,” she said, twisting the pamphlet in her lap. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Oh sure,” Eda said with a dismissive wave. “If we can absolve you of those sins before confession time, then you won’t have to confess them.”

Luz’s face lit up. “Sweet! But how?”

Standing, Eda rubbed her chin. “Hmm,” she hummed before cracking her fingers. She raised her hands. “This should do it: And a choir of angels gave thanks to the Lord, for He is good.” 

“His mercy endures forever,” Luz responded, familiar enough with the phrase. 

Luz jumped as a choir of trumpets sounded off. “There,” Eda said, nodding. “When you think you’ve absolved yourself of your sins, just say that. If the trumpets blare, it means you’re good to go.”

Grinning, Luz ran to the door. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I don’t have time to question it. Bye Eda!” 

Reconciliation, especially with one’s fellow man, was easier than people made it out to be. If you took, you just had to return. If you lied, be honest. If you unleashed an eldritch affliction, say sorry. You couldn’t fix that but ignoring that you caused it would be wrong. 

So her first step was to get Gus new snacks. A trip to the grocery store accomplished that. She left them in his hiding place with a little apology note. That was good enough for the invisible brass section.

Next was a new succulent for Willow. The exact kind Luz killed wasn’t available at any store she visited, so she opted for a similar breed, hoping that Willow wouldn’t mind. She left it on Willow’s porch for one of her dads to find, and her blessing sounded off louder than any doorbell. 

She ran off before could get bogged down explaining her erratic actions. 

The last thing was the hardest of all. Going door to door in the district that dare not be named, she said sorry and prayed for their release. The people who answered were confused and babbled in response. Some, she noticed, took to sign language after the incident, and those were able to respond coherently 

After the thirtieth person, the chorus gave a weak toot as if begging her to stop. “Is the sin really absolved?” she asked as she walked to the next house.

The trumpet blasted a decisive “Yes.”

*****

Luz burst through the front door, ignoring Hooty’s greeting in pursuit of telling Eda everything. “I paid Gus back for the snacks, I apologized to the people speaking in tongues- couldn’t fix it but I tried, and I gave Willow a new succulent to replace the one I drowned. That should be it, right?” 

Standing over a napping Eda, she caught her breath. She tried to temper her expectations, but the hope that everything would be okay now brought a small smile to her face. Eda opened her eyes, looking up at her with a crooked grin. “If you’re anything like me, there’s a half dozen other things you’ve forgotten.” 

Luz deflated as self-doubt set in. There had to be things she had forgotten, dozens considering the shenanigans she got up to without even thinking. Would pretending to be an angel count? Would destroying the detention hall? How about feeling upset at King after he ridiculed and rewrote her story? 

“If you’re like me,” Hooty cut in. “You’ve forgotten everything.” 

Luz rolled her eyes at Hooty’s comment initially, until she looked back at him. Her jaw dropped, and she faced Eda. “Dios mio, Dave.” 

“Who?” 

She didn’t have time to feel exasperated as she explained, “The demon I never purged.” 

“Oh yeah, that guy,” Eda replied, sitting up. She chuckled. “He definitely counts as a sin… Hoo boy, I wouldn’t want to tell Bump about that.” 

Luz let out a little distressed whine before her feet started moving. She paced in a circle, tapping her fingers against her chin. “He doesn’t have to know,” she reassured herself. “I just have to get rid of him.” 

Eda snorted, setting an elbow on the armrest. “Sure, summon him and banish him. Easy as splitting a loaf amongst a thousand.” 

Missing the jab, Luz turned to her with a smile. “Great, how do I do it?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” 

She skidded to a stop. “What?! Eda, you’re supposed to be the rebellious, sacrilegious… heretic, and you don’t know how to summon a demon?” 

“My memory isn’t what it used to be,” she said before looking at Art suspiciously. “And any books that I have on the subject keep disappearing. I’m afraid you’ll have to go out into town and find your own witch.” 

“A witch? Wait, there are witches? Seriously? I thought Willow was joking.”

“Oh yeah, witches, Satanists, the lot of them.”

So there were people who weren’t Christians in the valley. “Does that mean there’s Jewish and Muslim people here too?”

“Yep.”

“Where?”

Eda threw up her hands. “I don’t know, kid! Around.”

The possibility of meeting someone different overtook her thoughts. She wondered if they could do miracles like Eda and the others. Did they have to go to school too? “Can I talk to them about-”

Eda clapped. “Focus. You’re trying not to flunk out of school before you even have a class there.”

Shaking her head, Luz patted her cheeks. “Right, so where do I find a witch?” 

Eda slumped down the couch. “I hate saying this, but I don’t know. Ask some of my contacts in the market. You might get lucky.”

After a pause, Luz nodded, accepting that this next step wouldn’t be easy. Shrugging her messenger bag higher up her shoulder, she grabbed the door handle to shut it behind her. Eda’s voice made her pause. 

“I know I don’t say this often but be careful. Witches are flighty and fickle. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of one. Or worse yet, a coven.”

“Eh, I’m not worried,” Luz lied, fiddling with her bag’s strap.

Tossing her feet up, Eda lounged across the couch ready to return to her slumber. “Love to come with you, but I’ve got a delivery.”

“That’s fine. It’s my cross to bear anyways.”

Eda chuckled. “I think you’re getting the hang of my jokes.” 

Swinging the door shut, Luz grinned. “Bye Eda,” she said in a singsong voice. “If I’m not back by nightfall, send out a search party.” 

“Will do.”

Luz left, and Eda put an arm over her eyes. Her rest was short-lived as a chiming timer goes off. Groaning, she slid off the couch and shuffled to the kitchen. 

Her handmade distillery had brewed long enough. She turned off the stove and removed the lid. Straining the proprietary blend of lavender and lemongrass, Eda glared at the bubbling liquid. It was pale yellow like its oil base. Unlike its overpowering scent, its appearance was lacking.

Digging into a cabinet, she decided a bit of coloring was in order. She found her purple concoction, swiped from the mortal realm, and added a few drops, enough to turn the oil, well, lavender.

She gave it a rough stir while removing the pot from the stove. She poured the hot liquid into vials and capped them. The heat, once gone, would create a vacuum seal, and she prayed to expedite the process.

She tossed them in her purse before staring at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, she knew she needed support to do the unpleasant task. “King!”

There was a scurrying sound. He was on the move, trying to make his escape before he was strong armed into working. Eda followed the noise to its source and stomped on his tail before he could reach Luz’s room. “Gotcha! Come on, King. You’re making a delivery with me.”

“Ew no,” he replied while trying to free his tail. “I’d rather-”

“Whatever witty thing you were going to say, drop it,” she interrupted before sighing. “You have to come. It’s… Mr. Perfect.”

King crossed his arms. “Ugh, not that guy. Why can’t you do it yourself.”

She lifted her foot and rolled her eyes. “You know how he is. He’ll insist I stay for tea and try to talk about the weather for hours, so he doesn’t ruffle any feathers. Ugh, he’s so milquetoast, I’d rather talk to milk toast.”

Tapping his chin, King did what he did best. Extorted. “Fine, but if he serves any food, it’s all mine.”

“Sure.”

“And you have to bake cookies when we get back.”

“Quit while you’re ahead.”

King put his hands on his hips. Raising an eyebrow at her, he made it clear he was the one with all the negotiating power. Eda bent down, holding out her hands. “How about I carry you there and back.”

Holding out his arms, he said, “Deal.”

*****

The marketplace was always busier when Eda wasn’t around. Luz wasn’t sure if it said something about Eda or society. Regardless, it made finding one of her “contacts” all the more difficult.

Who were her contacts? Eda was a wanted criminal and overall a gruff, uninviting person, unless she could sell something. Luz could think of only one person. Morton.

The man that provided Eda with her curse-abating elixir. He had to know something about witches. Witch’s brews were just one step removed from whatever he did as a purifier if Luz’s logic tracked.

She made her way to his stand, surprised to find that amongst the crowded street, his shop was devoid of customers. She chalked it up as him working in a niche industry. It would make her job a lot easier. 

Leaning on the counter, she tapped the service bell a couple times. It took him a minute to appear from the back, and he brought a cloud of cloying incense-stench with him. “Heya Morton,” she greeted, breathing through a smile. “Do you remember me?”

He looked her up and down with a blank expression before saying, “No.”

Her grin faltered. “Eda’s kid? The only mortal in town? Luz?”

Crossing his arms, he sighed. “Let’s just say I do. What do you need?”

Luz didn’t know how to react to his lack of enthusiasm besides getting to her point. “I need to get in contact with some witches, and I was hoping that a brewer like you would know where to find ‘em.”

He tucked his chin. “Yeah, I make solutions that’re like magic, but I’m a purifier, not a witch.” 

That wasn’t what she was trying to say. For a brief second, she questioned what being a purifier actually entailed. Could he purify anything? Were there blacksmith purifiers and chemist purifiers? Luz dinged the bell again before her thoughts went too far down that rabbit hole.

His specialty lied in the occult, so it wasn’t out of the question that he would know other likeminded individuals. “Come on,” Luz pressed, bending down to look him in the eye. “If you know how to deal with curses, then you must know something about people who can inflict them.”

After a short stare down, he caved. Pulling out a pad of paper, he said, “Fine, but don’t tell ‘em I sent you. They already hate me.” 

Luz watched him scribble an address. “Aw, who would hate you?” 

“You’d be surprised,” he replied before tearing the page. 

Luz accepted the slip with a subdued thank-you. Reading it over, she recognized the street from her previous oil-delivering adventures. As she tucked it into her pocket, Morton offered some advice, “Bring quid, they’ll want it.”

Nodding, she thanked him again and hurried off. The address was on a side street, a place that would still have shops but were also off the beaten path. People could get away with some questionable stores on those streets.

Luz could picture it. A dark storefront with a gothic house feel. A steep pointed roof, and an ominous weathervane. Herbs or a wreath hanging on the front door to ward off evil. Cloaked windows that made you want to peek inside gaps but struck you with fear for what you might see. Stuff that Luz would be really into if it didn’t put the fear of God in her.

Turning on the street, Luz counted the numbers down to the right building. When she found it, she had to double check the address. It was the right place, she realized, and she shoved the note back in her pocket.

The “witch’s shop” was a Jamba Juice.

*****

Mr. Perfect lived on a street befitting the name. It was in suburbs, the nicest one in the valley. Each house was the color of an Easter egg. His was a pastel green, and his white picket fence had a gate that was always open. 

Walking through his fresh-cut, weed-free lawn, Eda eyed the furniture on his wraparound porch. There was a doily laying on the table, ready for a teapot and platter. Eda grimaced. 

The door was one of those fancy kinds that Eda always thought was dumb; it had a glass door and another regular door behind that. Why not just pick one? Did you just want to peek out and be nosy, but also nobody was allowed to look inside your house? As it was, the glass door was the only one shut. With a sigh, she rapped on the door.

She got to watch Mr. Perfect walk down his hall to the foyer. A smile was plastered on his face right above his tidy beard. He opened the door, and she cut in before he could say some cheesy greeting, “Hey there, buddy.”

“Good morning Miss Clawthorne.”

No one called her that. It was the most unpleasant combination of her name and a title possible. Something about it made her skin crawl. Regardless, she gave him a terse smile and hefted her bag into view. “I’ve got the goods.”

“Excellent!” 

There was a moment where neither of them moved. Eda was dreading the inevitable while her customer felt the opposite. He was content standing there until something happened. Lowering the bag, she shifted King from one arm to the other. That was all Mr. Perfect needed.

He leaned forward to point at the porch table. “Would you like to join me for my midmorning tea? It’s a new blend I’m trying, an oolong base with jasmine and mint! Oh, and fresh scones.”

Eda sucked air through her teeth. “You know I can’t say no to you.”

His smile softened as she gestured to King. “But I hope you don’t mind if my baby cherub here eats all your treats.”

“Not at all!” he responded cheerfully, holding out a hand for King to examine. King gave it a glare and a sniff, not unlike a suspicious cat, before accepting his touch. “The more the merrier. He’s absolutely adorable by the way.”

He combed King’s hair to the side as King snickered. “Thank you, Mr. Perfect.”

For a second, a pleased flush crossed his bronze cheeks. “Please, call me Emanuel,” he replied, reaching out to shake King’s teeny hand. “Now, go have a seat on the veranda, and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Eda turned, lowering King so he could pick his seat. Emanuel stopped halfway in the door, holding its frame as he faced them. “Oh wait,” he added, causing them to freeze. “Can I ask about allergies? Do we need cream, sugar, honey, almond milk, ethically sourced agave- sorry, I’m rambling.”

King answered him, demanding sprinkles and juice, while Eda shook her head. He was just perfect. Annoyingly so.

*****

Not even a knock off Jamba Juice. It had the sign with the weird tornado rainbow logo and everything. Sure, like most stores on the street, it was set in some re-purposed small home, but all the marketing and hallmarks were present. 

Including the counters displaying ingredients and black aprons, Luz noticed as she walked in. The white lighting mounted on the ceiling didn’t go with the house and made all its imperfections more apparent. Like how scratched up the wooden floors were from the metal stools.

The place had one other customer, waiting at the far end of the counter for their drink. One worker manned the blender as the other addressed Luz, “Hello, welcome to Jamba Juice, may I take your order?”

It had the right amount of friendliness for someone who clearly hated her job. Talitha, as her nametag identified, looked like she would rather be anywhere else than here. Her put upon smile was ringed with mauve lipstick and her black nails drummed on the counter. There were hints of a hand tattoo peeking from beneath her long sleeves.

Definitely a witch. 

Peeking at her coworker, Clementine, Luz had a harder time guessing. She wore a coat over her apron, but its black color was likely mandated by corporate. Her long hair was put up, and Luz got the feeling that she took her job more seriously than Talitha. It clicked when she spotted a full moon necklace, opalescent white against her brown skin. 

“Earth to customer,” Talitha droned. “Do you copy?”

“Oh sorry,” Luz said, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment across her cheeks.

She stepped up to the counter, pretending to look at their list of options. In actuality, she was waiting for the other customer to leave. Once the bell chimed on their way out, Luz leaned in to ask, “Um hi, are you witches?”

Any illusion of good customer service dropped as Talitha scoffed. Clementine gave her a side-eye before taking her used blender cup to the sink. Over the thrum of pressured water, she responded, “We’re not witches. We’re pagans.” 

Luz tapped on the counter. “And that’s not wit-” 

“It’s really not,” Talitha interrupted. “What do you want?” 

Eyes flicking between the two young adults, Luz gauged how they would react. “I need to summon a particular demon, so I can properly cast him from the world.” 

“Sounds rough,” she responded before turning away. “Good luck then.” 

Luz sprawled across the counter, reaching out to try and stop her from leaving. “Wait, no! You have to help me. Morton-” Luz clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oops.” 

Talitha rubbed her forehead. “Effing Morton…” 

She stomped off to wash her hands per company policy, grumbling, “Yeah we can, but that doesn’t mean we have to.” 

Sliding off the counter, Luz scrambled to come up with an idea. There had to be something she could do. Negotiate or barter. She remembered Morton’s advice, and she straightened up, putting her hands on her hips. “I’ll buy a smoothie.” 

Talitha’s disbelief manifested as mean-spirited cackling. “You can’t be serious.”

“Two smoothies… and a pretzel.” 

Clementine laughed before nudging the perplexed Talitha. “That’s the summoner’s special,” she joked, getting a reluctant smirk from her coworker. 

Luz smiled as Clementine fetched a fresh blender cup. “What flavors do you want, kid? And what’s the name of the being?” 

“Oh, Caribbean Passion and… razzmatazz?” she answered, staring at the menu. Her eyes dropped down to Clementine. “I named him Dave, and he seemed to like it.” 

Clementine pantomimed wiping tears from her eyes as she chuckled. “Excellent, it’s so much easier to get call someone when you know their name.”

Luz didn’t get the joke but laughed a little regardless. She watched as Clementine poured juice into the cup. Talitha perked up, bumping her shoulder against her taller companion. “Oh dibs! Corporate clause 11.15 allows for paid time off in the case of demon possessions.”

Lovingly rolling her eyes, Clementine turned to add frozen yogurt. “Go get started. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Talitha disappeared into the back. Craning her neck, Luz tried to get a glimpse of what was back there. It looked like a regular old hallway with a door or two as offshoots. “Can I go?”

“We’ll show you in,” Clementine answered, putting the blender together. “Can’t have you learning any trade secrets.”

She winked before turning the blender on. Luz chuckled, looking away. She glided to the end of the counter and thought about what she was going to say to Dave. Her stomach dropped. 

She had to explain why she was getting rid of him, of course, he deserved to know that much. What if he didn’t want to leave? What if he got angry and swore revenge? Luz rubbed her neck; she really didn’t need a demonic enemy.

Maybe she could ask the witches, no, pagans if they had any wards for demons. Luz jumped when Clementine set the drink down in front of her. Taking it with a nervous grin, she poked a straw into the lid. She played with it, creating a melody of squeaks. “He won’t be mad, right?”

Setting the dirty cup in the sink, Clementine shrugged. “Eh, hard to say.” 

She joined Luz at the counter and leaned on her elbows. “Demons are as diverse as people when it comes to their mindsets or outlooks on life,” she continued, running a thumb along her pendant. “Are you worried he will be?”

“He’s just chaotic- I really couldn’t say.”

Bobbing her head, Clementine got up to fetch her pretzel. At Luz’s behest, she heated it in the tiny conventional oven beside the blender. She brought it to Luz on a plate before pulling out various sauce packets from her apron’s pockets. 

Luz chose honey, drizzling it in tight zigzags. Reaching across the counter, she grabbed a shaker of cinnamon. She added a hearty layer. Clementine helpfully put it back as Luz chomped into her pretzel.

Clementine returned to her spot, a lackadaisical grin spreading across her face. The gap between her front teeth made it all the more pleasant. “So, how did a good Christian girl like you meet a demon?”

She took a sip to hide her smile. “Walpurgis Night… He possessed my entire house.”

“Oh yeah! That was all over the web. You guys caused so much destruction.”

Her hand clenched, and her cup squeaked in protest. “Did we?”

Clementine nodded. “Hey but don’t fret,” she added, reaching out to pat Luz’s hand. “Walpurgis is always a free night- any damage and demons are taken care of by the Emperor’s Church.” 

That was nice of them. They did serve as the sole authority of the valley, aside from God, so one could say it was their responsibility to ensure order, but Luz knew from experience that not all governments had their citizens’ best interests at heart. She took another bite before asking, “Then why didn’t Dave get rounded up?”

“Maybe he’s a sneaky snake of demon,” she answered with a shrug. “There’re plenty of those, which is why our business gets really busy the week after Walpurgis.”

Luz tilted her head to the side. “Is that a good thing?”

“Don’t tell Talitha I said this,” she started, leaning closer and putting a hand to the side of her mouth. “But I think she likes all the paid leave for what she has to do.”

Furrowing her brow, Luz whispered back, “What does she have to do?”

“Are you two coming or am I holding a session by myself?”

Luz jolted upright as Clementine faced Talitha with a neutral expression. “You know that’s against the rules.”

Putting a hand on her hip, Talitha bobbed her head. “Oh yes, and I just love following all the rules to a T. Now come on, I’d like to finish this before I go on break.”

*****

The tea was delicious. With or without sugar, but Eda dumped that high-inducing crystalline trash into her dainty teacup anyways. It’d probably go great with the vegan scones that she wasn’t allowed to eat per her agreement with King. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled their pleasant citrusy scent. Maybe she would ask for the recipe.

Clenching her fist under the table, she realized she was already getting sucked in to his mundane, domesticated nonsense. 

“So,” she said, interrupting whatever story Mr. Perfect was telling King. “I noticed that I hadn’t actually given you what you ordered.”

He smiled at her, unbothered by the disruption. “Good point, I’ll take them right now if you don’t mind,” he said while raising his cup to his lips. “I wanted to try some in my tea.”

While sliding the vials across the table, Eda commented, “You know essential oils aren’t deemed safe for consumption.”

“If it’s natural, how bad can it be?” he asked, looking through a vial.

“Remind me to bring you some nightshade next time.”

He laughed before tucking them into his pocket. “Good one! All right, I’ll keep this to external use.”

The temptation to make an inappropriate jokes was strong. Instead, Eda changed the subject. “What’ve you been up to since our last tea party?”

“The usual- church, new recipes, and of course, work.”

“Oh yes,” she grumbled. “Tell me how are the deaf orphans?”

“On the up and up, thank the Lord. My struggle student that I mentioned last time? They had an epiphany. Something finally clicked for them and since then they’ve been more interested in school and more talkative or should I say handsy?”

King chuckled at the pun as Eda huffed. The man couldn’t even reveal any juicy details because he followed FERPA. This man didn’t not know and obey a law, court decision, or social norm. He was unbearable. 

It was a surprise that he never tried to turn her in. Much like someone else she knew, time spent together was more important than doing the right thing right away. As if this time would get her to change her mind.

He set down his teacup. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been dominating the conversation. Tell me how goes it at the Owl House?”

Eda watched him pour King another cup of juice from a pretty glass pitcher. At the bottom, there was grit and remnants, a clear sign he made it himself. He wordlessly offered her more tea as she contemplated a worthwhile answer.

A lot had happened, but not much of it was stuff she wanted to share. And she didn’t want to be here all day. “Well, I’ve got a student too now. A mortal. She’s staying with me at the house.”

“How exciting!” he said, placing a hand near her on the table. “What’re you teaching her?”

“Skepticism, to question authority,” she listed before smirking and tacking on, “That God isn’t always there for you. That sort of thing.”

His smile couldn’t be hidden by his teacup. “Ah, you’re truly teaching her all the lessons you learned. That’s admirable.”

“Can you just stop?”

Was it really admirable? No good Christian man would say it was admirable for her to propagate atheist ideology. Not unless the pressure to be “good” and not rock the boat hadn’t already melted their brains.

“I’m sorry?”

Again, the only “proper” response to an out of left field comment. She slammed her fist on the table, creating a chorus of clinking dishes. “Stop apologizing! Stop Complimenting! Stop saying all the right things! Nobody’s perfect so why’re you trying so hard?”

Unhurried, he moved the teapot back from the edge where Eda’s temper sent it. Then, he adjusted the scone platter, making sure King could reach the few that remained. King grabbed one and nibbled nervously as Emanuel finished his tidying.

When he was done, he folded his hands in front of him. “It’s what God asks of us,” he answered. “Not perfection, but an honest attempt.”

Of course, that was what he thought. Fallible man could achieve the unthinkable through determination and effort alone. Considering how well he had done for himself, maybe it was possible. 

Or this was all a façade waiting to fall apart. From Eda’s experience, it was always the latter. Even Lilith couldn’t-

“Do you want to know why I buy from you?” 

He paused, awaiting her permission. She wanted to end the conversation there, but curiosity got the best of her. She nodded. “Because I admire you,” he continued. “You have this charisma, this relentless spirit. I know you aren’t driven by God, yet you do your best in spite of it all.”

She wouldn’t describe what she does as “her best,” but it was kind of him to think so. Or was it condescending because he thought this was the best she could do? She could certainly do better, but she didn’t want to try. She was comfortable where she was. 

“I’m not sure why you still sell to me if you find me so abhorrent?”

Because you remind me of Lily. Eda didn’t say that, playing off the serious question with a snort. “Abhorrent? You’re not that. You’re just trying so hard. I’ve never seen you flub a word or say something mean or trip or just make a mistake for once goddammit.”

As she caught her breath, Emanuel’s eyes widened with a realization. “Oh, that’s why he called-”

“Zip, still talking,” Eda said before stirring her spoon. She stared at the motion. “Not only is it unnatural and creepy how you have never messed things up-”

“Eh, these could use more salt.”

Eda’s glare kept King from making another comments. She looked at Emanuel, scanning his face for any sign of distress. Premature wrinkles and grey hair, bags under his eyes, things she could spot in an instant with her sister. But his appearance was, well, you know by now.

“But I’m worried,” she finished, putting her hand where his once was. “It has to be stressful to always be ‘on’ and perfect all the time.”

“No, it’s rather simple once you have a routine.”

Groaning, Eda dragged a hand down her face. “A routine? You’re killing me.” 

Emanuel laughed at her antics. It died out quickly as he picked up his teacup. Watching him drink, Eda wasn’t sure what how he was going to respond. Valley denizens, or rather Lily, never took her advice or concern to heart, which was why she rarely offered it anymore.

Slowly, the teacup was put down, and the silence stuck. Eda didn’t mind. It was the first bit of reprieve she got from his unending politeness. She didn’t know why but niceties seemed to suck the life out of her.

“I think I get what you’re saying,” he said after a while. “I’ll pencil in your considerations for my meditative prayer this evening. For now though… how do you like the tea?”

She sipped it, nearly gagging on the excess sugar. Underneath the self-sabotaging sweetness, the complex nature of the leaf-water was apparent. Cool mint, subtle floral notes, all bolstered by a sturdy foundation of regular old oolong. It was-

“Perfect, Emanuel. As always.”

“Thank you.”

*****

Clementine walked to the divider and opened it for Luz to join them in the back. She did so, leaving her half-eaten pretzel behind. Following them down the short hall, she tried not to peek in the doors they passed; she assured herself that they wouldn’t contain anything of interest.

They stopped outside the far door. Holding up a hand, Clementine told Luz to wait for a second. The coworkers stepped inside, leaving Luz with her thoughts.

She composed a little script in her head. All the points she wanted to hit, backup arguments if this took a nasty turn, some things she was willing to negotiate if she exhausted all other options. Everything she wanted to say became too long to keep track of, so she repeated it over and over as if she could memorize it all by doing that. 

And in the not-so-distant back of her mind, there was a list of questions to ask the pagans once this was over. “Over” sounded strange in her head, like it was already guaranteed, but she could always chicken out. In essence, she was sending a friend away to an awful place with low odds of coming back. She might as well be killing him. 

Clenching a fist in front of her stomach, she reminded herself why she was doing this. School, a chance to learn, to fit in and make friends, to find her place in the world. Her life wouldn’t be the same without it. 

“We’re ready for you,” Clementine said, poking her head out of the door.

Luz forced a smile and entered the room.

It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dark. It wasn’t pitch-black, but the handful of candles scattered across the floor weren’t much of a light source. Not scattered, Luz realized, as she spotted the thick ring of salt on the floor. They made up the five points of a pentagram.

In the middle of it was Talitha. She looked comfortable with her legs crossed; putting her weight on a hand, she picked at the nail polish on the other. When she glanced up, her black eyes were now yellow.

“Uh hi, Dave.” 

A wry grin tugged at her lips. “Hey kid.”

Talitha’s voice was layered with a familiar timbre. It was him all right. He sat up, putting both of his hands in her lap. For once, Luz got the impression he was trying to be somber. “I know why you called me here.” 

The script was gone. “You do?” 

“You’ve got to get rid of me. Send me back to the Pit to clear your conscious.” 

Stepping closer, Luz wavered. She kneeled in front of him. “It’s for school,” she explained, pressing her knuckles into her knees. “There’s this confessional thing, and I can’t tell the reverend that I unleashed a demon in the valley. I’m scared that he won’t let me into his school if I say that… So I’ve got to absolve myself.” 

Her eyes were fixed on the salt line. In the candlelight, it was yellow gems. Adding to the opulence was the heavy scent of frankincense. It was so thick, Luz felt like she could take a bite of it. That wasn’t the only thing making her stomach churn.

Dave took his time responding, watching her squirm. It would be his last bit of twisted torment for a while. “I understand.” 

Meeting his gaze, Luz squeaked, “Really?” 

His smile grew as he nodded. “I’ve had my fun, kid. It’s okay.” 

Luz put a hand over her heart. It was trying to escape her chest when she should be feeling relieved. “Is it weird to say I don’t believe you?” she asked, a guilty expression marring her face. “I feel like I’m murdering you in a way.” 

“No, no, I’ll always be around. People push us demons down in the Pit, and it’s our raison d’etre to climb back up.” 

Suppressing a sigh, he curled into himself. His eyes never left Luz as he held a hand over a candle’s flame. He couldn’t feel it. “You wouldn’t want our lives, so make this one your best.” 

“Thank you,” she responded, uncertain what else to say. Turning about, she looked to Clementine. “How do I…?” 

She stood in the corner, almost out of sight. She served as an observer to their interaction to make sure nothing went awry. “Cast him out with the power of your God.” 

“Right, right… Are you sure about this, Dave? No grudges?” 

“Trust me, kid, I’ll be back up real soon, and you won’t have yourself to blame for it. I know folk like me aren’t supposed to say stuff like this, but I promise I have no ill-will towards you.” 

“Okay,” Luz replied, finally accepting his words. Shuffling closer, Luz reached across the circle to put a hand on Dave’s shoulder. “God, cast this demon out.” 

Instead of just vanishing as he had every time before, Dave seeped out of Talitha as black sludge. His formless mass sunk into the wooden floor, his golden eyes winking at Luz. No trace of him remained in slow seconds.

She smiled and wiped away some tears. Even in the end, he was never what she expected. A sole horn played a somber note. She would’ve sat there all day staring at the ground if not for Talitha recovering from the possession.

Poking at the mild burns on her fingertips, she said, “That’ll be fifteen quid.”

*****

“Eda! We’ve got to go!” Luz called beside the front door. “I can’t be late for an appointment I had to make!”

Clomping down the stairs, Eda stretched her back. “Coming, coming,” she said as she arrived to the living room. “Don’t worry. With Art, we’ll get there lickety-split.”

She grabbed him from where she propped him against the mantle. Luz nodded, opening the door. Spotting something before he feet, she drew short. It was a basket. “Oh hey, there’s something on the doorstep.”

Luz picked it up while Eda knocked on the door. “Hooty! You couldn’t warn us?”

“I forgot!” he screeched in his singsong, ear-piercing voice.

Eda grumbled as Luz passed her the basket. Opening its lid, she found a pile of scones and a note. Curious, she grabbed the note before putting the basket down. 

King swiped it, running off. Luz chased after him, begging to get one before he ate them all. Clicking her tongue, Eda examined the note.

In tidy cursive from a fountain pen, it read, “Good day, Miss Eda. Thank you for visiting the other day and imparting great insight. I’ve taken your words to heart and hope to show you some improvement through making mistakes at a later date. Regards, Mr. Perfect.”

King gagged, spitting the scone on the floor. He wiped his tongue with his hands, mumbling something about salt. Eda snorted and stowed the note in her pocket. 

Maybe Mr. Perfect was alright after all.

*****

The confessional was a nostalgic wooden box. It held a small velvet-upholstered chair and a matching kneeler. The ornate grate to Luz’s side separated her from Reverend Bump, yet she could see his every movement and expression.

His eyes were on the Bible in his hands. “Welcome, Luz Noceda. Before we start I have a reading from the Book of Proverbs: ‘Take hold of instruction, do not let go. Guard her, for she is your life.’ The Word of Our Lord.”

“Thanks be to God.”

There was a pause as Luz waited for guidance. After a nod from the reverend, she started, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been five years since my last confession.”

“With great portions of time, one accrues many sins. Tell me, what have you done?”

Five years, where to begin? The very first sin she could think of was an event that happened a month or so after that confessional. She crashed her bike after ignoring her mom’s- 

Luz sunk in her seat. Even after all this time, she didn’t listen to her.

“I lied to my mother,” she confessed, wringing her hands. “I’m still lying to her technically. I’m supposed to be at a summer camp, but I’m here trying to enroll in your school.” 

Shrugging, she stared at the kneeler at her feet. “I could make excuses about how she hates religion, and that’s why I went against her, but that doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t honor her... if I was a better Christian I would’ve listened and bided my time.”

The guilt should’ve been crushing. A weight on her chest that drove her to action, but it wasn’t. She felt like she could go her whole life without telling her mother the awful truth. It stung to remember it, yet she had put it successfully out of her mind for weeks. 

It was what she had to do for a chance to be happy.

That was a selfish thought, but she was allowed to have those every once in a while. It wasn’t like she was asking for much. Just to be herself in a place that liked her for her. Her mom wouldn’t understand.

Bump nodded before closing his Bible. “That is a heavy burden indeed, but I believe you know how to handle it.”

She did. “Tell her the truth and beg for forgiveness.”

“You have until the end of the semester.” 

Her head shot up. Through the grate, Bump’s blank expression only confused her more. “Wait, does that mean I’m still enrolled?” 

“My child, no confession would bar you from a proper education,” he said with a reassuring smile. “At worse, I would place you in remedial classes or perhaps…” 

He didn’t finish his sentence, leaving Luz feeling uneasy. “Or?” 

He ran a thumb along the corner of his Bible; its cover was already warped from years of doing that. “Well, you are the first of your kind to attend Hexside. Special classes could be arranged if the regular coursework is not sufficient for your development.”

Was there something about the school that she was missing? Most of the work was like any other school’s, so the fact that he was already considering putting her in remedial classes was odd. 

But she was still going to be a student. That was all that mattered. “Ah okay, but for now?” 

“For now, I welcome you to Hexside School of Prayers and Miracles.”


End file.
